


Purple

by feminabeata



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M, Vampires, it's not very good, yep that's right vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feminabeata/pseuds/feminabeata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red and Blue makes Purple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> Decided into make 2 parts, one from each prospective, because I wasn't satisfied with "Red" alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunggyu learns how to live again and finds his cure for loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attempt at the super popular vampire Gyu trope...written quickly and sloppily in one day.
> 
> This is what happens when I watched Sunggyu's "4 Things" episode and "Interview with a Vampire" in the same weekend. 
> 
> I also blame his Dracula musical. 
> 
> hehe his wig.

_There are two urns that stand on the door-sill of Zeus. They are unlike for the gifts they bestow: an urn of evils, an urn of blessings. If Zeus who delights in thunder mingles these and bestows them on man, he shifts, and moves now in evil, again in good fortune. But when Zeus bestows from the urn of sorrows, he makes a failure of man, and the evil hunger drives him over the shining earth, and he wanders respected neither of gods nor mortals._

“I thought you gave up on that book,” a silky voice broke the deafening silence of the room. The book was taken out from the hands of the other, and the speaker, a mere child, laid it on the nightstand as he crawled into bed with his companion. They were in a hotel room, always a hotel room. Traveling from town to town, city to city, across states and countries. Never to be seen or noticed by anyone but each other. It was the only way to survive, or the only way they knew. “You’ve read it too many times.”

“There’s something I wanted to check,” the elder responded, his eyes still glued on the much-abused paperback book with dog-eared pages threatening to fall apart. His sight fell from the book and onto the small boy attempting to snuggle against his chest. “You know, there are two beds in this room.”

The younger jutted out his lower lip. “But, hyung, I’m cold,” he whimpered and tried to bury his face in the other’s flannel shirt.

“You’re always cold,” the other retorted with a light chuckle, threading his hands through the child’s long black hair, feeling his cold scalp underneath his fingertips.

The child hummed happily as he wrapped his arm around the elder. “And that’s why you’re here,” he murmured before closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep.

Sunggyu gazed upon the still face resting on his chest, white and smooth as porcelain. His long eyelashes were brushing against his round cherub cheeks. Sunggyu brought his knuckle against the child’s cheeks, as cool as death, which he was. The elder sighed, dragging his hand away from the cheek and instead resting it behind his head. The other hand was still entangled in the child’s locks. “That’s true,” he admitted with resignation as he stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks and the chips in the paint before drifting off into sleep himself.

_He wanders respected neither of gods nor mortals._

And it truly felt like that for Sunggyu. He purposefully hid himself away from humans, but the gods, if they existed, were hiding from him. He roamed this either unnoticed or uncared for. Not a deity caring that his time on the earth was already consumed long ago, that he lived beyond the laws of nature. Or was this natural in its own bizarre and twisted way? An insane god’s design to keep mortals in check?

He had too much time to ponder these questions. And it distressed him. He wished that he could be like Sungjong, his companion, having been frozen with that childhood mindset of not caring beyond his own selfish needs. In fact, that’s why Sunggyu existed, because of Sungjong’s selfish needs. The child desired a brother, and Sunggyu was willing. They made an odd pair. Normally it would be the older-looking vampire who had turned the child into one, but Sungjong was unlike all of the other children. First, he was the oldest vampire that Sunggyu had come across to date, and second, Sungjong was mentally mature and controlled his impulses, either an enduring trait from when he was human or something he had learned over the many years he had roamed this earth. In comparison to his companion, Sunggyu often felt young and weak, and he always had to fight back the urge to laugh whenever Sungjong called him “hyung.” For Sungjong was older in ways that Sunggyu couldn’t even fathom.

* * *

The alarm rang throughout the hotel room. Sunggyu groaned and turned off the phone. He shook the shoulders of the boy still laying on his chest, not having moved a single inch. “Sungjong-ah, time to wake up,” he goaded.

The boy stirred. “It’s been a week already?” he asked languidly, sitting himself up and rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

“Eung,” the elder responded, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of the kneeling vampire in front of him. “Where are we going this time?”

Sungjong yawned, his red tongue grazing the tip of his fangs. “First we eat, then,” he leaned in closer to his companion and whispered excitedly, “it’s a surprise!”

Sunggyu scoffed. “How is it a surprise when I’m the one driving?” he challenged.

The dark red eyes of the little one sparkled. “Hyung, let me drive,” he begged cutely, mimicking turning a steering wheel in his hands.

Sunggyu chuckled and ruffled the child’s hair. “No,” he said firmly after his laughter abated. “You look like you’re eight and how many times have you told me…”

“To not stand out. To go unnoticed. I know. I know,” Sungjong finished, frowning deeply. He stood up from the bed and adjusted his clothes before heading for the door. “It’s just that this is the last time,” he mumbled sadly and left the room.

“Yah! What do you mean last?” Sunggyu shouted after him, not moving from his bed. “Stupid cryptic kid,” he grumbled as he gathered both of their shoes (Sungjong had left without putting them on) and walked out of the door. Sunggyu could worry about what the boy had meant later, but after he stood up, he was hit with the overwhelming sensation of emptiness. There was a fire in his throat that needed to be extinguished. He had to eat.

* * *

Refusing to kill, to feed on humans, is a phase which most vampires go through. They cling onto their last vestiges of humanity for as long as they could and deny their new nature. It was truly just a phase of denial. But after watching generations of men become like leaves, the winds scattering the old leaves across the earth, giving way to the new buds to grow on the bare branches, and spring comes round again. As one generation comes to life, another dies away. Sunggyu had seen so many pass that taking the life of a person was nothing more than plucking a leaf from a tree before it’s time to whither and fall. A new one takes its place, and the tree survives. And that’s all that really mattered, that tree. Well, and satiating his hunger for his own survival.

He had accept long ago that he had grown separate from that tree. He was now a different being, a whole other species. And as he and Sungjong leave behind the two drained and twisted bodies in the alley way, Sunggyu didn’t feel a drop of regret or remorse.

“We are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret,” Sungjong spoke as he wiped the congealed blood from his lips, staining his sleeve. Sunggyu groaned and lightly reprimanded the child for ruining his new shirt. He took a handkerchief from his back pocket, knelt down, and wiped Sungjong’s round face with it. “That’s what Armond always said,” Sungjong managed to speak as Sunggyu roughly cleaned his face.

“Armond? The man who turned you?” Sunggyu needlessly asked to clarify. The both of them didn’t know too many people, living the way that they did. Armond was one of the few acquaintances they did have. “Are we going to see him?”

“No,” the boy answered simply. “We’re going to the Meramec Caverns.” He smiled gleefully.

Sunggyu lowered his hand from the round face and rested it on his knee, still clutching the bloodstained cloth. “Again? But that’s all the in Missouri , and we’re in Seattle. Why?”

Sungjong shrugged. Sunggyu sighed. This was the childlike selfishness in Sungjong coming out again. He did as he pleased and rarely ever consulted Sunggyu. The elder often wondered if Sungjong only had an adult companion to make him seem less conspicuous because he could take care of himself well and the child didn’t seem susceptible to bouts of loneliness like he was.

In fact, that was the reason why Sungjong found him in the first place: Sunggyu was lonely. And during his days as a human, whenever he was lonely, he would walk along the nighttime streets looking for a distraction, hoping that the feeling would fade away with each step he took. But it never did, and he normally went home with a heavier stomach after 10 or 15 minutes of aimlessly wondering around. That night, however, he did find a distraction in the form of alcohol. He had always found drinking alone to be depressing, but that night his mood matched it. He had asked several people to meet with him, and they all said no. So after numbing himself with bottles of soju, he tried to stumble back home, but ended up stumbling into the knife of a pick-pocket. And there he lied in the dark and cold streets, dying in the way he feared the most: alone.

The child had followed the scent of fresh blood and began lapping from the pool surrounding him. “Armond said that not a drop should go to waste,” he licked his bloodstained lips as he began to undo Sunggyu’s shirt, searching for the wound. His glowing eyes met with Sunggyu’s flickering ones. “He also said that no good person should go to waste either.” His fingers left the buttons of the shirt, and Sungjong hovered over Sunggyu’s panting body, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Do you want to be my friend? We can play forever.”

The answer slipped easily from his lips. It wasn’t that he was eager for death to stop, but for a friend he was desperate, and the promise of spending an eternity in someone’s company sounded like the dream he had been chasing his whole life, even if it was the company of a perpetual 8 year old.

From that point onwards, they became brothers. But Sunggyu would be hesitant to say that the loneliness had disappeared. 8 year-olds and 26 year-olds needed different kinds of love; Sungjong’s was more easily satisfied. And then there was Sungjong’s self-reliance. Intertwined with loneliness is the feeling of unwantedness. Sungjong didn’t make him feel wanted at times; in fact, he felt like a hindrance to the vampire.

“Always so slow. Can’t you speed up?” Sungjong complained, stomping his feet on the floorboards of their ’67 Impala. “You’re the opposite of him, I swear. He was always too fast.” The child was referring to the man he turned before Sunggyu, his previous companion. “Why can’t I find someone who matches me?”

Sunggyu ruffled the other’s hair, as he was accustomed whenever he deemed the younger was being ridiculous. “It’s not like we have forever, right?” he argued.

Sungjong rolled his head along the headrest to look at his companion. The pout on his face was evident, even to Sunggyu looking out of the corner of his eye. Yes, he was always 8, but he was by no means, a child. “Just go faster, okay? I’m getting impatient.” Then he grumbled under his breath, “We don’t have time to waste.”

Sunggyu just rolled his eyes in response and applied more pressure to the gas as he shifted into the next gear. Tantrums were one of the few things that showed Sungjong was still a child. And that’s another reason why Sungjong liked Sunggyu as a companion.  The other acknowledge and respected his actual age, but allowed him to still be a child at the same time. Finding someone to juggle both sides of his personality was hard to come by, but the moment he peered into Sunggyu’s kind and understanding eyes, Sungjong knew he found another companion.

* * *

_The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed._

They were halfway to Missouri when they had to stop to feed again. They were in a small pocket of Wyoming, nestled between mountains. Sunggyu cursed looking at the sparseness of the place. _The tree will sorely miss these leaves._ He sighed and glanced over to Sungjong who was already stalking his prey. _But it will survive_.

After the kill, Sunggyu lit a cigarette. He liked smoking. He liked watching the white-grey stream dancing upwards into the night sky. He liked the feeling of holding fire in his hands, one of the few things that could destroy him. And it made him feel like he was breathing again, like he felt alive even though the nicotine rush never coursed through his still veins.

“Feeling nostalgic?” Sungjong asked, pulling the handkerchief from the other’s back pocket, wiping his mouth with it. “You always smoke whenever you pretend to be human.”

Sunggyu dropped it to the floor, watching the embers being snuffed out under his boot. “Remember the last time we went to the caverns?” he changed the subject, hating how transparent he was to the child.

“Eung,” Sungjong nodded enthusiastically. “You said you felt like bat. It was funny.”

“And you fed on our guide. We were lost for weeks,” Sunggyu added, taking the handkerchief from the other and wiping his own mouth with it before returning it to his pocket.

Sungjong’s red eyes glowed happily in the moonlight. “Good memories.”

* * *

Sunggyu slammed the door to the Impala as they reached the entrance of the caverns. “Well, we’re here. I hope you’re happy,” he joked. The both of them were completely covered in spite of the summer’s heat, which they couldn’t feel anyways, but it was protection from the sunlight.

Vampires don’t turn into ash in the sunlight, and they surely don’t sparkle. However, vampires are hypersensitive, and the sun was too warm and bright. So they shunned it. Thus they gained the reputation of creatures of the night. Well, that and the fact that they primarily hunted at night (the dark allowing them to sneak up on their prey more easily, and humans tend to be more reckless at night).

“Estatic,” Sungjong immediately responded, his black hair flopping under his hat with every bouncing step he took. Then he turned around, running back to the vampire leaning on the black car. His small hands grabbed his companion’s and dragged him along. “Let’s go, hyung! We have no time to waste. We have to follow the thread before it’s gone!”

As soon as they stepped inside, the child took in a needlessly deep breath. His eyes scanned the limestone deposits. “How do you feel, hyung?” he asked with expectant eyes.

“Like a bat,” Sunggyu fulfilled his expectations.

Sungjong stepped as closely as he could to the formations, trying to touch them. “Don’t you ever wonder why we don’t become them? I always asked Armond, but he would just say. ‘That’s how we are.’ It was annoying,” he mused.

Sunggyu nodded, gripping more tightly on the younger’s hand. “It would be nice to fly away sometimes.” He glanced down at the other who was looking up at him curiously. “It would be better than all of this damn driving,” he joked.

But Sungjong didn’t laugh. He only gave a small smile, laced with sadness. “You won’t be driving anymore,” he admitted, resting his chin on the handrail. “Not for a while.”

Sunggyu squatted down to meet with Sungjong’s avoidant eyes. “Why not? Don’t tell me you want to walk everywhere now,” he tried to lighten the mood.

“No,” Sungjong answered, finally looking at his companion. “We’re going home.”

* * *

Home, that was one of the few things Sunggyu and Sungjong had in common. They were both Seoul natives. However, Sungjong made him leave as soon as he turned, and they just about went to every other place besides Seoul (or what was now Seoul). When Sunggyu asked why, Sungjong kept saying it was too soon to return. People would still remember him, recognize him. That was still his answer a hundred years later. That was another childlike thing about Sungjong: if he didn’t want to admit the truth, he would lie and often horribly.

But now they were going home, flying home to be exact. Sungjong’s head was resting against his shoulder, fast asleep. Sunggyu couldn’t risk sleeping though. When they slept, they tended to sleep for weeks on end. And while Sungjong could sleep because he had Sunggyu to carry him around, but if Sunggyu had accidentally feel asleep as freely as Sungjong did, it would be problematic. But thankfully, Sunggyu wasn’t at any risk for falling asleep on this flight. There was a baby next to him, screaming his head off.

“I’m so sorry,” the mother (a Korean like himself) apologized, the blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment. She was rocking her child in her arms. “The pressure must be hurting his ears.”

Sunggyu just nodded. He wasn’t accustomed to talking to others that weren’t Sungjong. He turned away from the woman, putting noise canceling headphones on. The pressure and noise was affecting him as well, wanting to scream out in pain like the baby. Sungjong was lucky he could sleep through it all. But now with the headphones, the flight was tolerable, especially with the soft Classical music playing through it. Sunggyu chuckled softly at the sleeping face next to him. If he were awake, Sungjong would mock him for his old tastes, never wanting to experience the products of the ages they were in. Sunggyu couldn’t help it; he was just a relic of his time. If he could do so, he would still wear his old clothes. They were more comfortable than these thick pants called jeans that Sungjong forced him into. None of these trends mattered to him. Just like the leaves on the tree, they would soon be replaced with new ones. It would be a pain to keep up with them.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He removed his headphones, blinking curiously up at the mother who looked even more embarrassed than before. “My husband isn’t here, and so I have no one else to ask.” Sunggyu nodded along, prompting her to continue. “But you look nice…and they way you are with your brother…I just thought…” She laughed a little, realizing that her words weren’t making sense. “Can you just hold him for a second while I go to the bathroom?”

“Ah, sure,” Sunggyu sputtered, saying his first words that day. After showering him with thanks, the young mother placed the baby onto his lap, which Sunggyu held lightly. _And you’ve just gave your precious son to a killer._ He could see the blood rushing under the soft skin. He could feel the heart softly pattering in his hands. It was so easy, so tempting. But it was a just a sprout. And although it would be sweet, it would also be ultimately unsatisfying. But what truly chased away his thoughts was when he realized that the baby wasn’t crying anymore. His large head was rolling over to rest on Sunggyu’s stomach. Sunggyu moved his hands from the blanket and brushed it softly against the black fuzz on his head. It was warm. It wasn’t the warmth of a fresh kill that he was used too. That was hot with panic. This felt warm and comforting like a wool blanket.

“Thank you so much,” the mother repeated, taking her son back into her arms. Then her eyes widened with surprise. “Oh! And he finally went to sleep,” she spoke in excited whispers. “You must be good with children.”

Sunggyu just nodded with a blank stare. Maybe there were some good things in this age.

* * *

From far away, all the leaves on the tree look green, but given a closer look, they are all different, with unique splotches of yellow or brown, with varied holes and scars from the abuse they endured, and even their edges had different dips and turns. Sunggyu had forgotten how to appreciate those little things, how to find the beauty in life. But he decided to start trying.

And he started in Seoul, the last place he “lived.” It was fitting.

Their stay in Seoul was already amounting to something different. As soon as Sungjong woke up (which happened to be two weeks later because Sunggyu had also fallen asleep after carrying the child into the hotel room), he insisted on finding an apartment, a home.

“But what happened to going unnoticed?” Sunggyu questioned.

“We’re here to be found,” Sungjong quickly answered before pulling Sunggyu outside to hunt with him.

Sunggyu had assumed that they were meeting with other vampires here. Such gatherings did happen on occasion, but they rarely participated in them. Maybe Sungjong was starting to feel the loneliness as well.

“Are we here to find your old companion?” Sunggyu asked months later after they hadn’t been “found” by anyone yet.

“Sungyeol?” Sungjong asked. Sunggyu nodded. The child shook his head and returned to his coloring book. “No. Have I never told you that he’s gone?” Sunggyu sighed. There Sungjong was hiding the things he didn’t want to talk about, allowing Sunggyu to assume that his old companion had run off with another.

“No you didn’t. What happened?”

Sungjong didn’t even look up from the pages of his book. “Sungyeol wasn’t able to handle it. He was weak. He grew tired of things too quickly,” the vampire explained with a resigned huff. “He had watched his great-great-grand niece grow old and die, and decided that he had been in between long enough and died with her.”

Sunggyu throat grew dry. “He killed himself?” he asked.

The child put down his crayon and rest his chin in his hands. “If you can call it that,” he responded, his red eyes were boring into Sunggyu’s. The innocence in them fled. They looked old and tired. “They number one killer of our kind is ourselves.” He picked up his crayon again and returned to his coloring. “But Armond always said that it was Irony that killed us because the world changed and we didn’t. I have heard people being killed by Iron, hyung, but never Irony.”

Sunggyu laughed heartily at his companion’s quick shift in personality. He patted his silken head. “You’re too cute.”

“Yah! I’m older than you!”

“Then act like it.”

* * *

Every so often, Sungjong would pull Sunggyu outside during the daytime to play, like to the caverns or parks. But this time, they went to a playground. Or to be honest, Sungjong was on the playground. Sunggyu was on a bench next to it, barely paying attention to his companion as he flipped through the pages of his beloved old book.

“What’s that language?” Sunggyu turned towards the squeaky sound to see a boy around Sungjong’s age, leaning against the armrest next to the vampire, trying to peer at the yellowed pages.

“Ancient Greek,” Sunggyu responded coldly, shifting away from the kid, hoping that he would take the hint and leave.

But he didn’t. He assumed that the vampire was making room for him to sit down. He squeezed himself into the small gap in between the armrest and the vampire. His chin was practically resting the in the crook of Sunggyu’s elbow as he looked at the book. “Wow! That’s cool. It looks like an alien language. You must be really smart,” he praised happily, smiling so widely that it exposed a severely crooked row of teeth.

Sunggyu stared at the kid curiously through his sunglasses. His nose was filled with the child’s sweet scent. His eyes drifted down and fixed on the veins, now rising to the surface as the child clutched tightly to the edge of the bench. The vampire licked his lips as he leaned down and whispered into the small ear, noticing the heartbeat pulsating in his neck. “When you’re as old as I am, it’s hard not to be smart,” he confessed. He pulled away and ruffled the boy’s hair. Something about the child reminded him of Sungjong, probably the age.

“Hm,” the child hummed in thought. “Then do you know this!” He challenged thrusting his forefinger between him and Sunggyu. “Hoi!”

“Ah, no I don’t,” Sunggyu stammered, staring at the pink finger. The boy looked up at him, laughing in his triumph exposing his protruding tooth. His finger was still poised in the air.

A small, pale finger touched the pink one. “Hoi!” Sunggyu turned to see Sungjong laughing along with the boy. “Do you want to play, friend?” the child vampire asked in his unique way.

“Sure!” The boy bolted from off the bench, and the two rushed over to the playground, climbing on the monkey bars (Sungjong more easily than the human) and sliding down the tube. Sunggyu closed his book and set it aside, opting to watch his companion play. The vampire almost looked normal if it weren’t for his abnormally pale skin and extraordinary amount of clothes. But he smiled as innocently and happily as the others. He hadn’t smiled like that in years, ever since we first got here.

But happiness soon turned into panic in a blink of an eye. Sungjong jumped down from his swing as it had reached the top of its arc in the air, gracefully landing on his feet and narrowly missing a wooden stake in the ground. The human boy, not to be outdone by his new friend, aimed to do the same. But he was limited by mortal constraints. He barely broke his fall with his small wrists, and the stake grazed the side of his face, cutting his soft skin.

Sunggyu smelled it before he saw it. The metallic scent of fresh blood, gushing in rivers of red down the child’s face, dripping into scarlet pools on the ground. Sungjong stiffened. His red tongue peeked out, wetting his lips. Sunggyu could practically hear him think, _not a drop should go to waste_.

With his inhuman sped, he gathered the small vampire in his arms and took him miles away from the sweet scent, leaving his book behind on the bench.

* * *

Sunggyu had picked up a new copy of the _Iliad_ , but he missed the familiarity of the softened paper in his hands. He grimaced. He was stuck in his old ways once again, but since his old favorite wasn’t comforting him like it normally did, maybe it was time to turn to a new source of entertainment.

He set aside the book and picked up the remote control, turning on the television. The vampire flipped through the channels, waiting for something to catch his eye.  It wasn’t until his third round of flipping when he had found it. It was a drama, a simple one. Nothing in comparison to the complicated tale Homer had told, but Sunggyu felt himself drawn to it.

Sungjong walked into the living room and was confronted with a strange sight: his companion sprawled out on the couch watching a drama intently. The child watched the drama for a few seconds and sighed. “What is this?” he asked.

“A drama,” Sunggyu answered, moving his legs to make room for the child. Sungjong took the invitation and rested his head on the other’s thighs. “This girl is an angel of death, but she became human after saving his life,” he explained. “I think…I think they’re going to fall in love.” For some reason, his voice was unsure with that statement. After all, it was a teen drama. Them falling for each other was inevitable.

“Hyung, what’s gotten into you?” Sunggyu tore his eyes away from the screen and saw his companion looking at him with stern and worried eyes. “You know that’s not going to happen for you,” Sungjong reminded him.

Sunggyu sighed, wondering what Sungjong meant by “that,” whether it was becoming human again or falling in love. “I know. I know. I’m not stupid,” he retorted, absentmindedly patting the soft, cool hair of the child. His attention was focused on the screen again. “This drama is though, but I can’t stop watching. It’s addicting,” he confessed with a light laugh.

“Wishful thinking,” Sungjong quickly interjected before patting Sunggyu’s thighs urgently. “Can we watch the music show instead? Hm hyung?” he begged.

Sunggyu groaned and handed the remote to the other, but later on he rejoiced when he discovered the internet and the rest of the episodes.

* * *

But dramas wasn’t the only thing he found fascinating about this new Korean age. “Hyung! What is this?” Sungjong asked as he walked into Sunggyu’s bedroom. A sly smile flashed across his face. “This song has words.”

“Yes, it has lots of them,” Sunggyu retorted, turning down the volume and growing embarrassed. A small hand stopped him from turning the dial. Sungjong turned the volume back up.

The small vampire pulled back, listening intently to the song as the tapped along with the rhythm on his chin. _If we meet again, I won’t ever let go of your hands / Don’t go far away from me ever again / Because you’re my everything_. Sungjong burst out into laughter which almost sounded condescending in Sunggyu’s ears. The child clapped. “Now I know why you listen to and read the same things over and over again. You,” he emphasized, rudely pointing at his companion, “have horrible tastes.”

Sunggyu frowned deeply and turned the song up louder to drown out the other’s laughter. He agreed a bit. The lyrics were not very impressive, but he liked the sound of the singer’s voice. There was a feeling behind it that the lyrics failed to express. But then the song abruptly shifted into a fast drumbeat and the charming voice was replaced with a trio of high female voices singing cutely.

Sungjong pointed to the name of the band, which was some sort of strange candy. “This is what you should be listening to, hyung. This is what’s popular,” he lectured as he normally did.

Sunggyu rolled his eyes. He didn’t care for what was popular. He cared for what he liked, and this girl group wasn’t it. He turned it off, and Sungjong pouted. “This age has horrible tastes,” he commented.

* * *

_Ruin, eldest daughter of Zeus, she blinds us all, that fatal madness—she with those delicate feet of hers, never toughing the earth, gliding over the heads of men to trap us all._

“Sunggyu,” Sungjong called out, putting his head over the threshold of Sunggyu’s room. His companion tilted his head. The child rarely called him by name. “Come with me unto the roof, okay?”

“Alright,” Sunggyu agreed hesitantly.

“Just wait five minutes.” Sunggyu wished that he didn’t obey that command. He hated how easily he gave into the child’s every whim. He shouldn’t have waited.

He went onto the rooftop, only to see the 8 year-old feeding a raging fire with newspapers and scraps of wood. And he was doing so carelessly, as if getting burned didn’t matter. It was obvious what was about to happen. What the old vampire had in his mind.

“Sungjong-ah…” Sunggyu croaked through his quickly closing throat. This was the most scared he has ever been since he first met the child. The flames were glowing orange-red in the moonlight, emitting a dark grey smoke into the sky. This time, Sunggyu didn’t enjoy the sight of the floating smoke. “D-don’t do this. Don’t leave me,” he begged.

Sungjong stood up from his crouching position, dusting the palms of his hands on his ashy pants. He avoided his companion’s gaze, staring up at the stars for one last time. “It’s time. We followed the thread to its end,” he cryptically spoke. His gaze fell down from the sky, and his red eyes were burning when they met Sunggyu’s. “Don’t look at me like that,” he reprimanded. “I forced you into this. I didn’t give you a choice. I know.”

Sunggyu marched up and pulled the child safely away from the fire. “You didn’t force me into anything. I said yes,” he yelled.

 “But I forced you to stay. I made it so you couldn’t leave me,” Sunjong argued and wrested his hand from the other’s grasp. Sunggyu opened his mouth to retort, but Sungjong in his ancient ways was able to shut his companion up with a narrowed glare. His mind was made up, and with his childlike stubbornness, nothing Sunggyu said could convince him otherwise. “You were never meant to be mine,” he growled, stepping backwards towards the fire. “Fate, it still exists even for the damned. Two people tied together by red string for all eternity.” He craned his neck back towards the fire, casting dark and yellow shadows across his white face. “I cut mine. I let her grow up and die without me. I found other strings: blue, gold, orange, liliac, green. But never red. Never red.” He faced Sunggyu again and took one more step backwards closer to the fire. “Hyung, you were pink. You were close, but you weren’t her.”

“Sungjong-ah,” Sunggyu’s voice cracked. Tears began blurring his sight, and they might as well. He didn’t want to see this.

“Hyung, when you find red, don’t ever cut it. Don’t let it go,” Sungjong issued his last command, and perhaps his most important one.

The vampire’s knees lost their strength; they collapsed. “Jjong, don’t do this,” he repeated. And although the other was right in front of him, the loneliness began to set in, setting up home in his dead heart. Sungjong didn’t want him anymore; he didn’t need him anymore. He’d rather not be than be with him.

“We are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret,” Sungjong repeated Armond’s words. He shook his head. “But regret is all I have. I’ve been this for too long. It’s time.” His arms wrapped tightly around Sunggyu’s neck. He whispered into his ear, “Hyung, this doesn't mean that I don’t love you. I do. I love you.”

Sunggyu was about to embrace the little vampire and not let him go, carry him away from the rooftop, but he was too quick. The next thing Sunggyu knew was that he was watching the child’s body being burned, consumed by the red flames.

* * *

Although he was no longer human, his old habits followed him into this new life. Sunggyu began to wonder around Itaewon, looking for a distraction from the crushing loneliness, looking for Sungjong. He was surrounded by hordes of people, noises, and lights, but not a thing tore him away from his oppressive thoughts. He oscillated between depression, rage, relief, and longing. What was he to do? Sungjong was no longer there, dictating their time. Their time. He said his time was up. Did that mean it was Sunggyu’s time as well?

After wandering for an unknown time, Sunggyu had walked into a bar, hoping that the alcohol would numb him like it used to. It didn’t. He rested his head on the wooden surface of the bar, watching a candle in a round glass flicker. He reached inside the glass and pulled out the small candle. His fingers tried to grab at the tiny flame, relishing in the burning sensation. _More I need more_. He extended his palm over the flame, waiting for it to burn a hole through his hand. But it never did.

 “That’s dangerous,” a deep and familiar voice spoke and a white hand pulled the candle away from Sunggyu’s palm.

Sunggyu’s eyes followed the candle until he saw it rest next to a large array of empty soju and beer bottles. He glanced upwards at the owner who was smiling with closed lips, his head cradled in his hands. Sunggyu gestured to the bottles as he reached over to retrieve his candle. “That’s dangerous,” he argued.

“Tsk. You have no idea,” the other scoffed, looking at the bottles in front of him. “This doesn’t affect me,” he admitted with a grimace. “Not anymore.”

“Oh, alcoholic,” Sunggyu concluded with a nod. He squared up to the man, who was looking at him with a knowing glint in his eye. And Sunggyu didn’t like it; it made him frown even more. “You,” he began to lecture, pointing at the man in front of him. “Life is precious and beautiful. You’ll have no idea until it’s gone. Don’t waste it on something like this or all you’ll have is regret.”

The man immediately began to laugh, beginning with almost silent chuckles until it grew into a roar, making Sunggyu wonder why he even tried with this human, why he even abandoned his normal cold demeanor. But he knew why. Sungjong’s passing had affected him greatly. He had been itching to talk, to interact with anyone, but it seemed like he chose the wrong person. Or the right one. Sunggyu saw the lower lip move down to reveal the protruding tooth. The man’s hands left his face to clutch at his sides, aching from laughter. And Sunggyu could see a faint scar from his temple down to his cheek from where the stake had grazed him.  Not only remembered the scar and the tooth, but the face was etched into his memory from the drama he had watched a few years prior.

The laughter soon died down, and the man put his head back into his hands; his face was beaming. “You aren’t that sharp, are you?” he teased. And that’s when Sunggyu noticed one more thing, above that tooth, a new pair of shining fangs.

Sunggyu inhaled deeply smelling the faint scent of death off of the other, which was hidden under the stench of alcohol, food, and humans. “Don’t tell me. You?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“Eung. Me. Vampire. You. Vampire. We. Vampires,” he explained in broken and simple speech, with gestures as he spoke.

Sunggyu frowned. “What happened?” he asked in a concern tone.

And the fellow vampire responded to Sunggyu’s frown with a widening grin. “Do you recognize me?” he sounded flattered.

Sunggyu nodded. “From the playground, when you got this,” he said as he traced the path of the scar. The other leaned into the touch. Sunggyu immediately retreated his hand and cleared his throat. “Then the drama.”

“You watched that?” the other was genuinely shocked but above all pleased. He leaned in closer and spoke in  a hushed tone as if it were a secret. “I remember you too. From the playground. You were reading that weird alien book.” Sunggyu scoffed at that, but that didn’t even trip up the other. It was almost like he expected it. “Then I began to see you several other places. Just for a second. But you always seemed to pop up whenever I was starting to doubt whether you existed or not: you never growing older with that kid at your side. You’re not very good at staying hidden.”

“Most don’t even notice,” Sunggyu replied honestly, his gaze dropping back down to the candlelight. It wasn’t so enticing anymore.

“I did,” the other muttered quickly. Sunggyu looked back up at him, noticing that the new vampire was craning his neck as he searched. “Where’s the kid?” he asked.

“Gone,” Sunggyu revealed. His throat felt like it was tightening again. He ran a hand up and down his face. “He died today. Or yesterday. Or weeks ago.” Exactly how long has he been wandering around the streets?

He felt a hand rest against his thigh. “I’m sorry,” the other offered, smiling slightly. He then bit his lip, wondering if he should ask his next question. He did, “Who turned who?”

“He turned me,” Sunggyu admitted, almost embarrassed at the oddity of it, but the other seemed to pay it no heed as he nodded. “What about you? You’re alone too.” His eyes had scanned the room, and no one else was paying attention to them. No one else smelled of death.

The smile finally fell from his face. He pulled away from the other, removing his hand as well. He just stared at the bottles in front of him, picking one up and rolling it in his hands as he confessed, “After the drama, I was given another offer to act in the ‘role of a lifetime.’ A role of a vampire. I just didn’t know that they were being literal.” He let out a deep sigh and set down the bottle. “The woman who turned me already had a companion, but not a son,” he spoke bitterly and then he chuckled, “I guess I am acting like her son and rebelling against her right now.” He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. “I didn’t want this. Even though I said yes, I didn’t know…”

Sunggyu’s hand fastened to his head, and he patted it like he had done years before. But this time, he did so more gently. “They tricked you. You have every right to be angry,” he offered consolation.

“Did the kid trick you too?” he almost looked like he wanted Sunggyu  to say yes, so he didn’t feel foolish on his own.

But Sunggyu couldn’t lie. He shook his head. “He saved me, if you can call it that,” he confessed with a light chuckle. “I was dying, and he stopped it.”

“Sometimes, I wish it was like that for me…” The other continued to lament and tell Sunggyu his entire life story, including his name, Nam Woohyun. Although he wasn’t the best actor, his career seemed promising, and his simultaneous singing career appeared to  be on the same path. But that woman, who insisted on being called “mother,” had derailed the path completely. But more than his robbed path to stardom, Woohyun was infuriated that the woman was trying to replace his real mother, who was still alive. His real mother knew about Woohyn’s new condition and accepted it (making Sunggyu feel guilty because he diligently followed Sungjong’s plan and staged a funeral and later rose from his grave, rather than spending the last few years with his family).

Woohyun also went on about all the theories he had about Sunggyu and Sungjong as he grew up: that they were aliens, hallucinations, ghosts, really good-looking zombies, and finally (and recently) vampires. “I was kind of hoping that I would run into you,” he confessed with a diverted gaze.

Sunggyu cocked his head. “Why?”

Woohyun shrugged. “I felt like I could talk to you, and I needed someone to talk to.”

Sunggyu was wanted, needed by this fresh, young vampire. He laughed. And he had been following the whims of an 8 year-old for centuries, and he was being turned towards for advice. “Then I’m glad we met,” he said as he got up and paid the bar table. They both walked slowly out of the door along with the other lingering patrons, who didn’t want the night to end just yet.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” Woohyun added as he leaned against the red brick wall, his eyes analyzing Sunggyu as if he wanted to remember every molecule arranged in his body.

Sunggyu offered a forced smile. “Maybe.” He put his hand up between them. Woohyun wrapped his own hand around the other’s and gave it a squeeze. Sunggyu glanced down at their connected hands, but then something caught his eye, a loose red thread on his sleeve just barely attaching a button to the coat. “Oh,” he quietly gasped as he  turned Woohyun’s hand in his and picked up the thread in his hands. _Take it and don’t let go._

“Hm?” Woohyun was confused until he saw the thin line of red in the other’s hand. “Aish. Annoying. Just pull on it to cut it.”

Sunggyu’s grip tightened.  “But I don’t want to lose it,” he mumbled.

“The button? I can just…” Woohyun began, but the voice was stopped in his throat as Sunggyu’s hand widened to envelop his entire wrist. He pulled in the younger closer and placed his lips upon Woohyun’s. Then he quickly pulled away, realizing how strange and unexpected it must have been for the other. _Or not_. Woohyun’s eyes immediately shrunk from widened surprise into happy crescents. “Do you feel it too?” he said barely above a whisper, leaning in closer so that his lips brushed against the other with each word. He then kissed the elder.

“Uh huh,” Sunggyu answered awkwardly, still adjusting to this sudden shift. He pulled away, letting go of the wrist and the thread only to pick up Woohyun’s cheeks in his hands. His thumbs rubbed against the cool and smooth skin. “You’re mine.”

_There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I put in for fun: quotes from the Iliad (I'm sorry. I'm teaching it right now so it's on my mind), the car from Supernatural (yea, it almost went in that direction), Hi School: Love On, Woohyun's solo "Close your eyes," Orange Caramel (btw I do love them), Dooley the Dinosaur's Hoi Hoi, and quotes mostly from Armond from "Interview with a Vampire."
> 
> But you guys aren't silly. You probably knew all that already.
> 
> Oh! And the baby was mos def Woohyun. Kay I'm done.
> 
> Night!


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps leaving Woohyun, and Woohyun just wants him to stick around for a bit longer so that he can figure him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The missing pieces to "Red."

_There is a reason why all things are as they are._

The first time Woohyun could remember seeing him, he was eight years old. It was a sweltering midsummer’s day with the sun beating down on him, hanging in the cloudless blue sky. Maybe his recollection of the event was hazy, but Woohyun could have sworn that the light refracted around him like a halo. Little Woohyun had to blink a couple of times and squint his eyes before he could make out the figure, reading a book. And from the corners of his heart, warmth crept in, like a sun peeking through clouds. Woohyun felt as if he had seen him before, maybe from a dream. It could have been the halo-like gleam around him or the strange feeling of déjà vu, but young Woohyun could not tear his eyes away from the man.

“Yah! It’s rude to stare,” his mother reprimanded him, grabbing his round cheeks and tearing his sight away from the man sitting on the bench next to theirs. “Didn’t I raise you better?” she teased, tapping him on the end of his nose.

“But, Mama, he looks…” _familiar_.

“Strange, I know. Who wears flannel and a denim jacket on a day like today?” she commented, fanning herself.  “It’s hot, isn’t it? Do you want some ice cream? There’s a cart right over there,” she suggested pointing at the vendor at the edge of the park.

Woohyun nodded enthusiastically. “Vanilla, please!” he exclaimed, bouncing in his seat.

“Okay, Mama will be just over there. I can still see you, so behave,” she reminded him and patted his face one last time before getting up from the bench. “I have my eyes on you, okay?” she yelled back to him as she was walking over to the cart.

“Yea,” Woohyun happily responded. He waited until her back was turned to leap down from the bench. Then he carefully walked up to the bench next to theirs, watching the light dissipate as he got closer. The man was pale, incredibly so, as if he was drawn on paper and the artist colored in everything but his skin. And despite the heat, Woohyun’s skin began to prickle as a sudden chill enveloped him. He was scared. He felt the urge to run away…and yet he took another step closer to the man. His curiosity trumped whatever fears he had.

_Maybe he’ll remember me._

Woohyun finally reached the bench and rest his chin on the warm metal armrest. He peered over the man’s arm to the book he was reading. Characters that certainly weren’t Korean decorated the yellowed page. He watched at the pale fingers gripped onto the thin paper and turned the page, only to reveal more of those silly looking runes. Woohyun then looked up at the man, seeing the ease with which he was reading the book.

“What language is that?” he blurted out.

The man appeared to be startled as he slowly turned towards Woohyun. His eyes covered by sunglasses, which only made Woohyun feel more apprehensive because he couldn’t read the man’s expression clearly. But it felt cold. Until there was a small flicker of a smile, which eased the young boy’s heart.

“Ancient Greek,” the man responded, returning to his book and flipped to the next page.

Well, that clarified nothing for the eight year-old boy, and only left him with more intrigue. Woohyun wanted a closer look at the book, to see if he could decipher it himself.  He clambered up onto the bench, sitting next to the man and looked over his arm into the book. Nothing, he could read nothing. And yet the man could read it as if it was as clear as this day. There could only be one explanation: this man was not of this world. “Wow! That’s cool!” Woohyun praised, pulling back and smiling at the man. “It looks like an alien language. You must be really smart.”

The man leaned down closer to him, a wily smile on his lips. Woohyun gulped. This was it. The man was going to confess of his extraterrestrial origins, just like they did in all of his beloved scifi movies. “When you’re as old as I am,” the man whispered. “It’s hard not to be smart.” He then ruffled Woohyun’s hair, cold fingers brushing against his scalp.

“Hm,” Woohyun was slightly disappointed. The man appeared to be average. Just an average intelligent earthling with a strange book. Woohyun then smirked. He wanted to test the other suddenly (he might’ve felt a little foolish for thinking the man was an alien, so he wanted the other to feel foolish as well). “Then do you know this? HOI!” he challenged, pointing his finger at the other.

The man’s mouth hung open and his lips quivered as he stammered, “Ah, no I don’t.”

Woohyun giggled in this triumph, seeing the other dumbfounded, but soon enough, a dumb look took over his own face as a small pale finger touched his own that was still hovering in the air.

“Hoi!” Woohyun slowly turned his neck and saw a boy about his age with long black hair grazing his dark eyes. He was also dressed too warmly for this weather, in a sweatshirt, pants, and a beanie on his head. His skin was every bit as white as the man on the bench. The boy let out a tinny laugh, mixing with Woohyun’s breathy giggle. The boy then asked with a cheshire smile, “Do you want to play, friend?”

“Sure!” Woohyun had enough of the strange man and his even stranger books. He jumped down from the bench and took the other’s hand in his. The two young boys rushed off towards the jungle gym. Woohyun tried to show off to the other, climbing up the monkey bars quickly (quicker than anyone in his class in fact). But as he reached the top, the pale boy was already perched up on the bars, looking down at Woohyun with that calm smile. Woohyun smiled back while biting the inside of his cheek. Maybe he could slide down the slide faster than the other.

He couldn’t. The boy was waiting for him at the bottom of his slide when Woohyun was only half-way through with his ride. The same happened with the firepole, and somehow the boy even appeared to be better at the teeter-totter than him, pushing off the ground with so much force that Woohyun almost flew into the air.

And so when the boy suggested that they try out the swings, Woohyun was determined to soar higher and faster than the other. With his burning determination, Woohyun appeared to be finally winning. He was higher than the pale boy, by mere centimeters, but a win was a win.

Then suddenly the boy smiled at Woohyun, and in the next moment, the boy let go of the rope and flew off the swing from mid-air, landing on his feet as delicately as a cat. Woohyun’s eyes immediately darted over to his mother, who slowly began to register what her son was about to do. Her eyes widened with panic and a loud “No!” was bursting forth from her lips. The half-melted cups of ice cream fell from her hands, spilling onto the cement.

But it was too late, Woohyun had already let go and was flying through the air. Maybe once again his memory was a bit hazy, but he swore that he hovered for a bit before crashing down onto the soft rubber of the playground. But sharp pains still shot through his palms and knees which had hit the ground first. And his cheek, his cheek was burning and yet, wet.

He brought his hand up to his face, touching his cheek. It felt as if it split wider under the pressure. He quickly retracted his fingers and brought them into his sight. Woohyun’s worst fears were confirmed. Blood. Tons of it, dripping from his cheek onto the ground, oddly reminding him of the ice cream from seconds earlier. He had nearly missed being blinded by an ill-placed stake in the ground.

His eyes flittered over to the pale boy, about to blame him for his misfortune…but Woohyun suddenly lost the ability to speak. The boy’s eyes were now glowing bright red. He then dragged a pink tongue over his lips, revealing the white fangs behind them. Woohyun winced, in pain and in disbelief. And when he opened his eyes again, the boy was gone, along with the man on the bench. But his mother was there, wrapping him in a warm hug. He hadn’t noticed how cold he was until then.

His mother pulled away, pressing a wad of tissues next to his cheek. “I am never letting you out of my sight again,” she promised.

* * *

At the time, the promised seemed to be exactly what Woohyun wanted, to be forever under the protection of his mother’s comforting embrace. But the embrace only became more constricting with age, and instead of being comforting, it was now smothering, almost suffocating. And now, at the ripe age of ten, Woohyun was rebelling, fighting for a chance to finally breathe.

This night, he found the opportunity to test the limits of his daring. He had made some new friends recently of the more mischievous sort. They were the boys with more demerits to their names than honors, who liked to bend the rules until they threatened to break. In other words, they were exactly who Woohyun needed.

He snuck out of the house, when he was supposed to be tucked safely into his bed, but he was tucked in a thick coat, braving the cold night air, searching for his new friends. They weren’t doing anything terribly, just singing a few songs at a noraebang before retiring back to bed. Just rebelling for the sake of it…and for the danger of it too.

But this night, one of the boys wanted to add onto the risk. “Let’s go to the other noraebang. The waitresses there are prettier,” Daejun suggested. The other boys (his followers) readily agreed.

“But that’s several blocks away,” Woohyun argued, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.

“So,” Daejun cocked an eyebrow. “We’ll take the subway.”

Woohyun sniffed and looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I don’t have enough money,” he replied.

Daejun let out a howling laugh. “Yah! Just jump the barriers, stupid. That’s what we always do. I haven’t paid for the subway in over a year!” The others soon chimed in with how long they’ve ridden without pay. But Woohyun must have looked unsure because Daejun then leaned in. “Unless you’re too scared to do it.”

“I’m not scared!” Woohyun shouted back, shoving Daejun away.  “How do you think I got this?” he pointed to the thin scar running down his cheek.

Daejun scoffed. “The knife fight? Come on, you don’t expect us to buy that shit.”

“I’m not scared!” Woohyun repeated rather than admitting to his bluff. “And I’ll show you.”

Once they reached the subway station, Woohyun watched as the boys one by one, carelessly jump over the barrier and onto the platform. Woohyun, on the other hand, was more cautious. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for any security guards at this late hour. There were some, and they looked slow and dumb. Woohyun breathed a sigh of relief and then jumped over the barrier himself.

“Yah! Punk!”

A guard had caught Woohyun out of the corner of his eye, and right as his feet hit the ground, Woohyun broke out into a sprint, along with the rest of his friends, about to boarding the approaching train. A couple of guards were at their heels.

“Hurry up!” Daejun yelled as he leapt into the train. The rest were already inside. And judging by the panic on Daejun’s face, the guards were closing in.

Woohyun was about to pass through the train’s doors, but then he froze. Aboard the train, standing behind Daejun, was a pale man in a flannel shirt and a denim jacket. Unnaturally pale, white as fresh fallen snow. Next to him was a young boy in a yellow sweatshirt, too young to be out so late. The boy’s eyes met Woohyun’s, and Woohyun swallowed harshly. They were blood-red.

Flashes of a playground, fallen ice cream, and dripping blood ran through his mind. And his hand instinctively went to the scar on his cheek.

_No. No way. It couldn’t be._

“Get on the train, idiot!” Daejun shouted, trying to keep the doors from closing in, but it was too late. Woohyun felt rough hands pull him away from the train’s closing doors.

“Well, we got one,” the guards said to his coworkers as he dragged Woohyun back towards the entrance where their office was. He glared at the wide, blue-clad back, gnashing his teeth. “Maybe this kid will tell us his friends’ names.”

“Fat chance,” Woohyun grumbled.

“Tell us or don’t. It doesn’t matter in the end,” another guard chimed in, smiling smugly at Woohyun. “We still call your parents.”

“Terrific.”

* * *

In fact, it was terrific how Woohyun’s parents didn’t keep him under house arrest after that incident. When they arrived home after picking him up from the subway station, his mother only four words for him, “I’m disappointed in you.” That, coupled with the resigned look in her eyes, cut Woohyun deeper and left him with a more crippling scar than the one on his cheek. He had officially lost the trust of his parents.

As much as he wanted to regain that trust, he couldn’t leave Daejun and his new found freedom so easily, especially now when he was expected to act out. The temptation was too alluring. The high he received from acting out was too rewarding. But seeing his mother lose faith in him with each passing day, filled him with regret. He was going to stop it soon and return to the nice kid he really was at heart, but he was quite done with rebelling just yet. He was only thirteen, which seemed to be a good age to keep making mistakes. He’d have the chance to rectify them later.

“Just go and ask him,” Daejun urged Woohyun yet again. Their small gang was lined up alongside of the wall outside of a convenience store. And now, tried of trying to convince Woohyun with just his words, he pushed Woohyun. “Just do it already.”

“Fine. Fine!” Woohyun snapped back. He then took in a deep breath and drew his baseball cap over his eyes. Step by anxious step, he inched closer to the stranger, leaning against the other side of the store’s wall. A cigarette was in his hand and smoke was spilling out of his mouth, sailing upto the night sky. “Ahem,” Woohyun cleared his throat after getting close enough to the stranger. His head was pointed downwards, allowing the bill of his cap to hide his face. “Can you buy us some cigarettes?” he spoke lowly, disguising his voice.

Orange-red embers then appeared at his feet, followed by a cigarette. The stranger snuffed the still burning cigarette under his foot. “Don’t you know that smoking is bad for you?” the stranger spoke.

“But you smoke,” Woohyun combatted and lifted his gaze. But then he immediately dropped his head again. It was the pale man from three years ago. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping that the other couldn’t recognize him as well.

The man chuckled and a soft hand fell on Woohyun’s shoulder. “Nothing can kill a dead man,” he spoke softly and gave the shoulder a squeeze before retreating his hand. “But you’re still young. And life’s too short. We are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret,” he ended with a slight chuckle. The last phrase was repeated as if a quote or mantra.

Woohyun dared to look up again from under his bill. The pale man was watching him with a curious glint in his eye. Strange because he was the curious one to Woohyun. “But sir, if I don’t try a cigarette, I’ll regret it,” Woohyun rebutted.

His head was pushed back down as the man patted the top of his head. “Cheeky kid,” he muttered with happy lilt. “Yah! Are those your friends?” he asked, nodding over to Daejun and the others who were peering around the corner and retreated after noticing that the man had caught sight of them.

Woohyun raised his head slowly, studying the man whose eyes were now narrowed on that corner. “No,” he carefully (and somewhat honestly) responded.

“Good,” the pale man replied. There was then a strange glint in his eye that chilled Woohyun, and the man licked his lips while muttering something about “Maybe in a few years.” But then he returned his attention to the teenage boy in front of him and patted him on the head again. “Don’t regret anything,” he exhorted. Then the pale man turned on his heels and disappeared into the darkness of the night. Woohyun watched the man until he was out of sight; then he sauntered back to his gang, with his ‘mission’ failed.

“You got scared again, Nam?” Daejun mocked Woohyun as he walked past. “That ahjussi buys us cigarettes all the time. Did you chicken out and just ask him for directions?”

“No, I asked,” Woohyun insisted, turning towards Daejun.

His friend scoffed. “Bullshit,” he challenged. “You got scared like you always do.” The others laughed condescendingly along with him.

 _Don’t regret anything_. Well, Woohyun surely didn’t regret punching Daejun in the jaw, even if it did result in him getting a black eye in return, several kicks in the sides, and scrapes all along his body. It could have been worse if the security guard at the store didn’t break up the fight. And that night, Woohyun officially broke ties with Daejun and the others.

When he returned home, his mother whisked him inside and immediately began applying medicine to the black and blue bruise tenderly. “Did Daejunnie do this to you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Woohyun responded, ashamed.

“Did you hit him back?” his father asked.

“Yes.”

His father smiled and patted him proudly on the back. “Good job, son.”

Woohyun smiled. It had been years since he had heard those words from his father, and it felt good to hear them again. He was so focused on rebelling that he had forgot how good it felt to please others, to make them proud of him.

But then the smile faded little by little as his thoughts returned to the pale man. Woohyun had just realized something. Either the man was aging in reverse, looking younger every time they met, or he didn’t age at all. Why was that?

* * *

_Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain._

"Alright, Noona. I'll meet you there!" Woohyun spoke cheerfully into his phone.

"Okay, but don't be late again, Woohyun-ah, okay? Or I'm going to go without you," a slightly annoyed voice came from the other end. Woohyun sighed. He liked his girlfriend, he truly did. She was the prettiest girl in class and was generally sweet, but she held a double standard, upholding Woohyun to things that she never fulfilled herself. He was reprimanded if he forgot the tiniest anniversary. He was scolded whenever he was late, and yet…she had forgotten his birthday this year. And she was late to most of their dates, citing that it took longer for girls to get ready than guys. Woohyun still endured it all because he was only sixteen and this is what he thought love was: being able to spend time with a pretty girl whose hand, when she was in the right mood, he got to hold and whom, when she was in a really good mood, he got to kiss.

"I won't be late," he promised. "Just wait for me, Jiyeon-noona."

"Hm, don't want to," Jiyeon responded cutely and hanging up the phone. Woohyun knew (or wished) it was a lie. She'd still be there even if he was late, which judging by the delayed subway train, he might be. However, if he ran all the way to the theater, he could make it just in time. So after the train arrived at the right station, Woohyun sprinted off onto the platform and up the stairs to the street. He wasn't paying too much attention to where he was heading and almost ran into an elderly woman. Woohyun just barely dodged her and turned around to apologize profusely, but as he did, a flash of white and red caught his eyes.

_Not again._

The pale man was on the other side of the street, standing completely still now as if a statue. His chin was tilted upwards towards the roof. Woohyun suddenly felt as if he was eight years old again, drawn to the man by his insatiable curiosity. He took one step closer, but the man became a blur again, rushing across to the other side of the street, until he came to a halt again, growing rigid at he gazed up towards the rooftop of another building. Woohyun's eyes darted everywhere with his jaw unhinged, wondering if anyone else saw the superhuman feat, but nothing. Everyone went about their daily business as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

This pale man, it became more obvious as Woohyun grew older. He wasn't human, but what was he? Woohyun hadn't learned anything like this from his classes. He had no explanation, but he had a desire to figure it out. Now that the pale man was closer, Woohyun saw if he could creep up slowly on the other. After a few agonizing minutes, Woohyun was only five feet away from the man. He swallowed and a smacked his lips. His mouth was suddenly dry, and words didn't seem to want to come out. But he wanted to speak to the man, just one more time before he disappeared again.

"Ex-excuse me," Woohyun croaked, with his eyes shut tightly, fearing the other's reaction to him (whether the pale man could or couldn't remember him, both prospects terrified him). But there was no response. Woohyun cracked open his eyes and saw no one. The pale man was gone again. Woohyun groaned loudly and threw his head back in frustration, running his fingers roughly through his hair. "Huh? No way," he whispered.

The pale man was on the rooftop, peering over the edge down at Woohyun, but as soon as they made eye contact, the man fled again. Woohyun quickly sprinted around the building, about the burst through the doors to run up the stairs, trying to corner the man on the rooftop. But as soon as he grabbed the doorknob, Woohyun's stomach dropped. His date, he had forgotten all about it. He glanced down at his watch. Now he was half an hour late. Woohyun cursed and broke out into a sprint, shooting one last glare back up at the rooftop. That pale man had consumed his precious time. Woohyun would be lucky if Jiyeon was still waiting for him in front of the theater.

She had, but it wasn't lucky. "Woohyun-ah, let's break up," Jiyeon suggested as soon as the other arrived. This apparently had been the final straw for her. She handed him the movie ticket and left. As for Woohyun, whose mind was a storm of confusion at the recent turn of events, he schlepped into the theater and watched the end of the movie. It was a romance. Jiyeon had picked it. But it didn't deepen the rift in his broken heart (if it was actually broken, he was confused more than anything), he barely paid attention to it. Instead his thoughts were consumed by the pale man dressed in red.

* * *

  _I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in straight-waistcoats._

Woohyun woke up in a cold sweat. It was that dream again, the same one that he'd been having for years. He was chasing after the pale man again, but the man kept eluding him with his supernatural speed and would laugh mockingly at him. Woohyun supposed (wished) that the man stood for something else, mainly his dreams, because those seem to be also eluding him with the same amount of ease.

After he had broken up with Jiyeon, he became a trainee at an entertainment company for acting. It was a small one, one with few actors to its name, but they promised to make Woohyun a star. And he had believed him. But years had passed and he was no closer to attaining roles other than being an extra for cable dramas. Woohyun also believed that if he just endured and persevered that the roles would eventually come. He was starting to lose faith, like he was also starting to lose faith that he pale man actually existed because the man had appeared so often in his nightmares that Woohyun had assumed that maybe he had just dreamt of him all along.

But today, he wouldn't let his nightmares get the best of him. He was graduating from high school today, after which he could devote himself to acting entirely. It was going to be a major turning point in his life, and Woohyun was determined to make it a good one.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. He didn't even trip over his own two feet when he walked up to receive his diploma (a fear that his friend had instilled in his head). But when he was outside, taking pictures with his parents, he felt his skin begin to prickle. He looked up, beyond his friend holding the camera and saw him again. Woohyun grew rigid. The pale man had become like a bad omen to him. Nothing good ever came after he showed up. The first time he got his scar, the second time he lost the trust of his parents, the third he lost his friends, and the last time he broke up with his girlfriend. That didn't include the hours of lost sleep after the nightmares with him either. Woohyun grew even more tense after he noticed that the small child was with him, eyes flashing red under the sunlight.

"Ow! Woohyun!" his mother yelped in pain. Woohyun didn't even realize that he had been clutching onto her so tightly.

"Sorry, Mommy," he apologized, rubbing her forearm soothingly. And when he looked up again, the pale man and the child were gone. 

Nothing bad happened, and the nightmares ended.

* * *

  _How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men—even if there are monsters in it._

A year later, Woohyun had been out drinking with a fellow trainee, who was a year older and had more energy than Woohyun could even imagine. But now, after bottles of soju and beer, the two boys were sluggish and drowsy. Woohyun's friend was worse off than he was. So much so that Woohyun was practically dragging him down the street, but he didn't mind. His friend was warm, soft. Woohyun's nose was filled with his sweet, musky scent. And even though Woohyun should have been as tipsy as his friend, the closeness of their bodies, the warmness of their skin sticking to each other, and the tickling breath on his neck, it all made Woohyun's mind completely clear. Void of every thought except for one: he wanted to kiss him.

Woohyun thought that he knew of love at sixteen, but that was love he had learned from books and films. This love, what he felt right now for the other, was real. Before, Woohyun had never known what it was like to know someone inside and out, but with his hyung, it was as easy as breathing air. And just as refreshing too. His friend also always managed to make him happy, even on his darkest days, and make Woohyun’s heart beat faster than it ever had with Jiyeon.

They had never even kissed, but with him Woohyun felt so elated. If it wasn’t the alcohol that made him drunk, then he was high off of feeling real love for the first time. And he felt too much. He set the other carefully and slowly on the ground and propped him against the wall. “Hyung, I’m going to call us a cab, okay?” he announced to the other who just mumbled nonsense in response. Woohyun chuckled as he called for the cab on his phone. But as he was hanging up his phone, Woohyun saw a small child walk out of the alleyway next to them, completely alone. “Hyung, wait right here. I’m going to help this kid,” he told his friend as he approached the boy.

Then the boy turned towards him. The red eyes glistened under the silky black curtain of hair. The boy smiled his chesire grin as if he recognized Woohyun. And when Woohyun finally reached him, the unaging child held out his pointer finger. “Hoi,” he spoke in a smooth tone.

“Hoi,” Woohyun whispered back and he pressed his pink finger against the small white one. “It’s you.”

“Eung,” the child hummed happily, his eyes turned into smiling crescents. “Nice to see you again, friend.” The smile then faded as his eyes grew wide in shock. His red irises faded to black. “I knew it. You _are_ his red. I can see it clearly now.” The boy lifted his gaze from the ground and met Woohyun’s. “For me, you’re blue, but you’re his red. And oh!” He gaze dropped back to the ground as it followed a path to Woohyun’s friend slumped against the wall. “He’s your orange! He must make you very happy.”

Woohyun had followed the other’s gaze and watched his friend’s head roll around, those precious lips smacking against one another. Woohyun suddenly cleared his throat and replied, “Yes he does. But why are you talking about colors? What’s red? What’s orange? And…where is your friend?”

“Oh? Hyung?” the boy asked. “He’s eating. He should be back shortly, but…it’s still too early. The string hasn’t tied yet.”

Woohyun cocked an eyebrow at the other curiously. Maybe his eight year-old self was right and these two beings were from another realm because what the other was saying made no coherent sense at all. Or else Woohyun was drunker than he thought. Before he could souse out any meaning from the cryptic words, the yellow taxi pulled up to the curb. “Look, it was nice seeing you again, but I have to go know. Bye!” he said to the other as he backtracked towards his friend.

The child nodded and waved. “Like I said before, it’s not time yet. Goodbye, friend! Farewell!”

Woohyun waved back, and then after reaching his friend, he place his hyung’s arm around his neck and pulled him into the taxi. Once they were safely inside and buckled, Woohyun chuckled softly as he placed his friend’s dozing head on his shoulder. With his forefinger, he parted the elder’s lightened locks so that he could see his friend’s sharp features. “Dongwoo-hyung, I like you,” he whispered and delivered a kiss on Dongwoo’s head. Smiling proudly after having achieved what he had been dying to do for weeks, Woohyun turned his head to look out the window. His heart jumped into his throat.

Just outside his window, the pale man was walking out of the alleyway, vigorously wiping his hands with a handkerchief. A stream of blood was dripping from his lips. Woohyun’s eyes dropped back down to the cloth in the man’s hands and watched it change from stark white to dark red.

Woohyun considered jumping out of the taxi, leaving Dongwoo in the car of the cabbie, and confronting the man who had haunted his dreams and consumed his curiosity. But with one glance back at Dongwoo sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, Woohyun quickly abandoned those thoughts. This time, he’ll be the first to leave.

* * *

  _There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part._

“Hello! My name is Nam Woohyun. Please take care of me,” Woohyun introduced himself and bowed to the crew. Today was the first day of shooting for his first drama, and somehow, by some miracle, Woohyun had landed the lead role. The director, for no other reason than the kindness of his heart, wanted to use rookie actors. It was a story about high school, angels, family, and first loves. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but it was his.

Woohyun waited along the side of the set as the crew began to prepare the next scene. His costar, Saeron walked up next to him.  As it was the first day, the two didn’t know each other very well, and Woohyun was suddenly grateful that this wasn’t a “love at first sight” story. It wasn’t that Saeron was not pretty. She was beautiful, but she was also several years younger than him. And Woohyun was beginning to feel gap between them form as silence fell between them. He had to close that rift quickly, if he wanted to pull off his role successfully.

“So you play an angel of death? That’s funny. You don’t look that scary,” Woohyun teased.

Saeron looked up at him with a deadpan face. “You’re a high school student? That’s funny. You don’t look that young.” Woohyun’s face fell, slightly appalled, but then her face warmed up and she began to giggle. “I’m glad to be working with you, Woohyun-oppa. I feel comfortable around you, like a real oppa.”

That statement made Woohyun feel relaxed (and maybe that’s why Saeron had said it. She seemed more mature and astute beyond her years). “So have you ever seen one? An angel of death?” he asked. Saeron shook her head. Woohyun tsked. “You’re playing one, yet you’ve never seen one. Someone hasn’t been doing her research. My costar is lazy.”

“Well have you?” Saeron challenged. Woohyun nodded. “Really?” she seemed incredulous. “What do they look like?”

Woohyun rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous to admit this. “There’s two of them,” he began. “A man and a child. They both have milky white skin and red eyes. They can be really fast, but most of the time, they move about slowly, like they have all the time in the world and..” He was suddenly interrupted by Saeron giggling. “What?”

“Oppa!” she chided. “Those are vampires.”

Woohyun studied her serious expression. “Really?”

“Eung,” she responded. “Haven’t you ever read or watched Twilight?”

Woohyun scoffed, “I’m a boy.”

Saeron jutted out her chin defiantly. “Boys can read them too.”

“Everybody, take their marks!”

“Oh that’s us!” Saeron announced after being startled. “Let’s go.”

“Vampires,” Woohyun muttered, cocking his head as he watched his costar skip onto the set. “It doesn’t seem right.”

* * *

Later that week when he had borrowed the book from Saeron, he tried reading it, and it still didn’t seem right. He closed the book and put it next to him on the bed. “They don’t sparkle,” he mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling. He then sighed and placed an arm over his eyes. “They don’t sparkle. They don’t read minds…I think. But…” he bit his lip turning his head towards the book. In the back of his mind, he had a suspicion that they were, along with several other theories: ghosts, aliens, zombies, and even angels. Yet…Blood. He recalled the pale man’s lips and hands from four years ago covered in yet. Woohyun, however, was still reluctant to believe that the two were blood-sucking predators. Why? Because Woohyun had run into them time and time again, but they always let him go, even when he had blood pouring from his face. He had been easy prey for them.

Woohyun flipped over onto his side and fiddled with the pages. The book was dumb, but there might be something to it. “I’m his red,” he repeated as he open and shut the cover. What the child had really meant by that, Woohyun couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed an awful lot like he was special for the pale man…or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Woohyun groaned and flipped back over onto his back, kicking his legs in frustration and pulling his blue comforter over his head. And he fell asleep like that, fitfully.

And the sleep was only made more frustrating by the dream Woohyun had of red lips tracing neck and of the pale man refusing to let his fangs sink into Woohyun’s skin, only letting them graze as he nibbled softly…teasingly. Never giving Woohyun what he wanted.

* * *

The next morning, Woohyun yawned loudly as he sat in the make-up chair. The make-up artist reprimanded him for not sleeping well as she applied foundation thickly over his dark circles and along the scar on his cheek. But Woohyun only nodded and half-listened. He was busy replaying the dream in his head and wondering where the man was. This was the longest he had gone without even seeing a glimpse of the pale man and his child companion. Had they finally returned to their coffins? Woohyun shook that morbid thought from his head and grabbed his script, running over the lines for the next scene. But he couldn’t entirely erase those blood-red lips from his thoughts.

It was the last scene of the day, and night had fallen. Saeron and he were walking down a set of stairs. Woohyun  had to keep himself from laughing while delivering the cheesy lines, and from laughing at Saeron’s old lady outfit. But during one of the takes, where he had managed to keep himself together for the most part, Woohyun threw his head back and yelled to the night sky, “Hey! I’m right here!”

His character was supposed to be mimicking Saeron’s, but…just like his character, maybe he wanted to be found too.

“Cut! Perfect!” the director called from his chair. “You too really seemed like you wanted to be found,” he had meant it as a joke, but it made Woohyun feel embarrassed by how true it was. He rubbed the back of his neck and bowed to the cast, telling them that they did a good job.

When he lifted himself from his final bow, Woohyun’s eyes must have been deceiving him, or was the pale man really there smiling at him? He closed his eyes and rubbed them hard. When he opened them again, the man was nowhere to be seen. It had probably just been a hallucination of Woohyun’s sleep ridden mind.

* * *

  _Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings._

Although his drama was somewhat cliche, it had garnered a more positive response than expected…Woohyun had drawn in more fans than expected. And once the writer found out he could sing, she wrote in small opportunities for him to showcase his talent, singing Saeron a lullaby or introducing himself to his music class. His singing was what was commented on the most, and his company grabbed hold of the opportunity, allowing Woohyun to make a solo debut. And even though most of the songs off of his album were written by professional song writers, there was just one he wrote himself.

It was about love lost, but yearning to regain it. A love that haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

He had sworn to himself that it was about Dongwoo. The two of them had tried a real relationship (when Woohyun confessed again while Dongwoo wasn’t passed out drunk and completely sober). And it was the best that Woohyun had ever had. But there never seemed to be enough time for it, especially when Woohyun was pursuing his acting dreams and Dongwoo was preparing to debut with an idol band. They amicably split so each could pursue their own dreams, promising that one day, maybe they would try again. But Woohyun was often left with  “what ifs,” especially on lonely nights when he could feel emptiness all around him and in his heart. It was the best and worst decision he had ever made.

Woohyun had sworn to himself that it was about Dongwoo, but Woohyun never once dreamt about his ex.

* * *

  _Denn die Todten reiten Schnell._

Woohyun’s eyes darted about the room anxiously. He had been on casting calls before, but he felt more pressure at this one. It was his first for a major feature, and his agent said he was basically guaranteed the role, if he could make a good impression on the director, which shouldn’t be hard. His agent had told him that the screen writer wrote the script with him in mind.  But rather than being emboldened by that, Woohyun instead became more never. This was a role for him to lose.

“Hello, my name is Nam Woohyun. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself to the lady next to a camera mounted on the tripod. Woohyun was confused. Normally there would be more than one person judging him, but he guessed since he really only had one person to impress, any more would be superfluous.

“Hello Woohyun-ssi,” the director (he supposed)spoke warmly. She smiled too, but it did nothing to ease Woohyun’s heart. If anything, it set him more on edge. She looked as if she was keeping a secret from him. Maybe she had another actor in mind. The woman crossed her legs and leaned forward. A long, pale finger traced her stained lips. And although Woohyun reckoned her to be around his own mother’s age, there wasn’t a trace of a wrinkle or a line anywhere on her face. But that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for show business. They all had found their ‘fountain of youth’ in plastic surgery.

“You know what the role is, correct?” she asked.

“Yes,” Woohyun immediately responded. “A vampire,” the word felt weird to say out loud.

“And do you feel fully prepared to take on this role?” she asked. “It might require you to do some…gory scenes. Are you okay with blood, Woohyun-ssi?”

Woohyun promptly nodded. He felt that more than anyone, with his unique experience, he was outfitted better for this role. “Of course, as long as it’s fake,” he joked.

The director cackled in response. “Fake,” she repeated with her sharp laugh. “I like to keep things as real as I possibly can.”

His throat tightened as he watched her stand up from her seat and turn on the camera. His eyes darted back and forth from the camera to the director, who was now standing next to the tripod. “Like animal blood?” he asked, not able to control the slight quiver in his voice. She nodded. “That’s okay, I guess.”

“I heard that you’re a filial son too,” she suddenly mentioned. “Is that true?”

Woohyun nodded stiffly. “Yes, I recently bought my parents a new house. They’re moving into it soon.”

The director inhaled a sharp breath. “Fantastic,” she said as she let out the breath. “I only want nice people to join my cast.” She fiddled with the lens on the camera, focusing it on Woohyun. She then smiled at him, her fingers still twisting the lens. “Congratulations, Woohyun-ssi. You passed the audition.”

“I, I did?” he was in shock. He hadn’t gone over any lines. He hadn’t even received any lines. And the red light of the camera was still on. It was still recording. _Is this a hidden camera?_ He cleared his throat, trying to keep his emotions in check. “But I didn’t say any lines.”

“I saw all I needed to see,” the voice was coming behind him. Quicker than lightening, the director had gone around him. One arm was tight around his waist like a vice grip, inescapable. Her free hand was tracing the contours of Woohyun’s neck. “I’ve found my new son,” she cooed, her fingers now tracing the outline of his scar. Her arm tightened around his waist. “My little handsome Woohyunnie.”

 _Shit! No!_ Woohyun hated himself. Why hadn’t he thought this through? He had known that those two existed. Why didn’t he think that there’d be others like them? But if he did, would he have been able to prevent this?

“NO!” he yelped out, trying desperately to escape her grasp.

“Sh! Sh!” she hushed. “The more you struggle, the more it will hurt, and the more it will hurt your mother’s feelings.”

“I already have a mother,” Woohyun’s voice was strained because he was craning his neck away from the vampire’s fangs that were threatening to scrape his neck.

“That’s right. Me!” The vampire plunged her fangs into Woohyun’s neck, and a horrible, searing pain coursed throughout his body. He was on fire. Then he was ice cold. He was trembling greatly, yet his joints were growing rigid. He had fallen onto the floor, watching the blue carpet becoming increasingly soaked with his blood, growing a deep shade of purple. And as the blood poured forth, he felt himself become empty, like he was a glass of water that had been spilled. He could practically feel his soul leaving his body with every breath as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

The last thing he saw was the camera, still pointed at him, with the red light blinking.

* * *

When he woke up to his new life, it was a month later. To his relief, he was laying on a bed but not in a coffin, but the relief didn’t last for long. His throat was burning. It was dry, as if he hadn’t had a drop to drink in his entire existence. He looked around frantically for something to soothe it.

“You’re thirsty.” Woohyun looked over next to him to see the director sitting in a lounge chair by his bedside, waiting patiently for her new son to awaken. “It’s time for you to feed.” She grabbed a cup from the nightstand, filled with thick crimson liquid. Woohyun could smell its metallic sweetness; he craved it. “Let your mother help you, Woohyunnie.”

“No!” Woohyun yelled, knocking the cup from her hand. “You’re not my mother,” he hissed.

“Is there a problem?” Woohyun snapped his head towards the doorway where there was a man with long gray hair with pitchblack eyes.

Suddenly, his ‘mother’ appeared at his side. “Honey, it appears that our son is going through a rebellious phase,” she stated with a pout and shot a reprimanding glance at her ‘son.’

Woohyun laughed to himself. What a lucky young vampire he was to have such loving parents forced upon him? Especially when he still had parents (he hoped) at home. Parents that he truly loved and missed, that probably missed him as well.

For that reason, he had to escape (also because he didn’t want to become a part of this twisted family). So while his ‘father’ was soothing his ‘mother,’ Woohyun seized the opportunity, leapt out of bed, and burst through the large windows of the room. Part of him wished that the sun would scorch his skin until his was dust and that the impact of falling out of a third story window would crush his body, but he had landed delicately on his feet as if only jumping down from a small ledge. And the sun was just annoyingly bright and warm. And he was still there, when he needed to be anywhere but (he could already sense his new parents chasing after him). So with unaccustomed speed, he sprinted towards the only place he knew to go: home.

Once he arrived home (after making a slight detour, feeding off of several stray cats he ran across in alleyways, staving off his thirst), he banged on the front door. “Mom! Mom! Dad!” he yelled.

The door flew open within seconds, revealing his mother who looked haggard and depressed…and in mourning. Her eyes widened at the sight of her son. “Woohyun-ah,” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

“I am,” he whimpered and fell down onto his knees.

* * *

  _Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds…true love?_

But Woohyun knew that he couldn’t stay at home for long. Although his parents were surprisingly receptive of his new form (they kept saying how happy they were to have him “back”), it wasn’t safe. He almost tore at his mother’s throat when she came in for a hug. And there was no saying that his new parents wouldn’t make a sudden reappearance in his life. And so he wandered aimlessly, feeding off the strays that he found, struggling to learn on his own the ways of a vampire. He was alone…and already forgotten. The news of the missing rising star was already replaced with a new startling tragedy, and somehow that left Woohyun with a new found loneliness.  No one cared.

One night, he was desperate to chase the loneliness away. That also happened to be the night he learned that vampires couldn’t get drunk. He was just sitting at the bar with only empty bottles to keep him company, until another person listlessly plopped down onto the barstool next to him. Woohyun merely glanced out of the corner of his eye, just thinking it to be another patron ordering a drink. But it wasn’t.

His pale man was sitting right next to him, his head resting against the bar counter, his fingers trying to grasp desperately at the flame of a candle. Woohyun wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t find it within him. This man, Woohyun had always thought that he looked so old, but now, they looked the same age. And Woohyun finally realized how young the other must have been when he died as well. The pale man’s cheeks were still slightly chubby, and the light in his red eyes still twinkled with innocence (and sadness as well). But then Woohyun noticed that the man was intending to burn himself with the small flame. Woohyun leaned over, grabbed the candle and pulled it away. “That’s dangerous.”

The pale man raised his head, and Woohyun couldn’t help but to smile at his pouting expression, like a kid whose toy was taken away. The man pointed at the soju bottles in front of Woohyun. “That’s dangerous,” he retorted.

Woohyun scoffed, not believing that the other hadn’t caught on yet. The smell of death was still fresh on Woohyun. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wash it away. “You have no idea,” Woohyun said facing his bottles again. “This doesn’t affect me. Not anymore,” he dropped a hint.

“Oh, alcoholic!” the other exclaimed with a nod. Now Woohyun was completely baffled. This man wasn’t the cool, mysterious vampire that Woohyun had thought for his whole life. This man was…cute and wise, but clueless at the same time. And Woohyun just might like him better for it. “You!” the vampire pointed at Woohyun before launching into a lecture. “Life is precious and beautiful. You’ll have no idea until it’s gone. Don’t waste it on something like this or all you’ll have is regret.”

Woohyun finally found his laughter again, and it spilled forth from his mouth in droves. He couldn’t control it. Regret? Woohyun had a feeling that both of them had many (especially him because they’ve only talked three times, and twice he had brought it up). But if everything they did had lead them up to this point, everything Woohyun had suffer, everything the other had gone through too, maybe those regrets would wash away with time. Why? Because Woohyun was the other’s red. He still had no idea what it meant. But now he was certain that he meant that he was special to the vampire.

The laughter finally abated, and Woohyun cradled his head in his hands, staring at the vampire who appeared to be slowly grasping at the situation (and finally doing what Woohyun had wanted to do for years: recognize him). “You aren’t that sharp, are you?” Woohyun teased. He felt his fang brush against his lip as he fought back another round of laughter at the vampire’s widening eyes and unhinged jaw.

“Don’t tell me…you?”

“Eung. Me. Vampire. You. Vampire. We. Vampires.”

* * *

The night was the best night of Woohyun’s new life. The two had exchanged stories, as well as names, which was weird after knowing each other for twenty-five year to finally do. He was Kim Sunggyu, and his companion, the small child, Lee Sungjong had passed recently, “dying in the way vampires most often do” (Sunggyu had told him). And as he talked with Sunggyu, Woohyun’s worries lessened. He no longer felt foolish for being tricked into a coven. Sunggyu made it obvious that he didn’t have a choice. In fact, Sunggyu seemed to have been a bit jealous that Woohyun didn’t have a say (apparently Woohyun was right about the other having regrets).

When the bar was closing, the two stepped outside, reluctant to part ways so soon. Woohyun was surprised. For a man who had been running away from him his whole life like a phantom, Sunggyu was lingering around him for an incredibly long time, fiddling with a loose thread of Woohyun’s coat.

And then the other kissed him. Woohyun smiled as he watched the other pull away, almost shocked at what he had done. But Woohyun stayed still with his lips only centimeters apart from the other. “Do you feel it too?” he whispered. _Like everything was leading up to this?_ Woohyun leaned in, kissing Sunggyu, after craving to feel their lips move against each other again.

“Uh huh,” Sunggyu answered when Woohyun pulled away. The elder cupped Woohyun’s cheeks, holding him as if he was afraid that Woohyun would disappear. “You’re mine.”

Woohyun laughed again, placing his hands on the other’s hips, bringing the other in closer. “Does this mean that you’re mine too?” he teased.

Sunggyu pouted and let his hands fall from Woohyun’s face. He tore the hands away from his hips. “Forget it. I was wrong,” Sunggyu snapped, crossing his arms and storming down the street.

But this time, Woohyun was quick enough (maybe even quicker) to catch up with Sunggyu. He stepped in front of the elder, halting him by placing his hands on the other’s chest. “No,” Woohyun denied, pushing the Sunggyu. “You always leave. It’s irritating.” Woohyun raised one finger into the air, begging. “Just this once, stay. I’m sorry if I offended you, but…I need help, okay? I don’t really know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. I need guidance. I need you!”

The tension seemed to slip away from Sunggyu’s shoulders and a small smile graced his face. “You need me?” he repeated in a light tone. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Woohyun raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to trust the other so easily again (especially how quickly Sunggyu had gone from “you’re mine” to running away in a few seconds). “For how long?” he asked.

“As long as you need.”

* * *

The two began talking again, but this time up on a rooftop, away from the rest of the sleeping world. Sunggyu was explaining some of the things he was told by Sungjong, who was told by Armond, who was told by the man who turned him, etc. Woohyun (half) listened and rest his head upon the elder’s shoulders who began running his fingers through his silky hair. At some point in time, Woohyun interrupted the other, “Isn’t it funny that the first time I’m watching the sun rise, I’m dead…and a vampire. Aren’t we supposed to combust in the sun?”

Sunggyu grimaced. “The things people come up with,” he groaned. Then he let his hand fall from Woohyun’s head, bringing it together with his other hand into his lap. “I can’t tell you the last time I noticed the sunrise.”

Woohyun chuckled at the odd phrasing, but he let it drop. The sky above them was slowly changing from shades of reds, oranges, and pinks until a soft blue overwhelmed the whole sky. “It’s pretty,” Woohyun stated after the ‘show’ was over. He glanced over at Sunggyu who was smiling.

“It really is.”

Woohyun straightened himself up and stared at the other carefully. “Sunggyu,” he called to the other. The elder turned towards him with a hum of recognition. “Do you think you could stay…forever?”

Sunggyu looked like he was trying hard to fight back his smile from growing any bigger or brighter. “I think I can manage."

_There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that I didn't screw up the original story by doing this.
> 
> Random Note: thought about doing quotes from Twilight, but they, um, didn't seem to fit. Bram Stoker's "Dracula" fits much better. IMO no other vampire fic has ever beat the original.


End file.
